


Is It My Fault?

by Lilsciencequeen



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, But it all ends okay, F/M, First Kiss, Injury, Perthshire Cottage, Some Fluff, Surgery, serioulsy guys, trust me - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 06:12:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5857231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilsciencequeen/pseuds/Lilsciencequeen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When yet another near death experience happen, FitzSimmons learn a lot about each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is It My Fault?

**Author's Note:**

> So this came to me one night. Hope you enjoy.

“Can you walk?” Trip asked, kneeling down next to Jemma, her nodded her head though she winced as she rubbed her ankle. Getting her under the arms, he lifted her up and she leant on him, putting all of her weight onto him. “Fitz,” she gasped, looking over her shoulder. The last few moments had been a blur to her. She had been in the room, with Trip and Fitz, when they had been ambushed by Ward. A minor explosion has shaken the room, throwing them all of their feet. As the smoke cleared, Jemma didn’t know what was happening, and Trip was shouting something at her, saying something about concussion and a broken ankle. But Jemma could only think of one thing; Fitz. She wanted to know where he was. If he was okay. She couldn’t let Ward hurt him. Not again.

“Jemma!” came Trip’s voice again. She looked at him, eyes wide.

“Fitz,” she whispered, eyes now darting around the room trying to find him. Finally they met those blue eyes, and they were full of shock.

“Run!” he shouted at her. And that’s when she noticed Ward getting up, his eyes locked on hers. She shook her head, attempting to turn back and reach him. But Trip had a tighter grip on her, and started to drag her away. She shook her head, but she couldn’t fight Trip’s grasp as a wave of dizziness rolled over her. She turned her back at Fitz, taking one last glance before Trip dragged her away.

But behind her back, Ward had started to crawl across the floor, making his way towards Jemma. Once on his feet, a gunshot rang out. Fitz. It grazed Ward’s side, and he kept going, making his way towards Jemma, shortening the space between them. Trip was trying to get Jemma out of there as quickly as possible.

That’s when everything changed. Fitz lined the gun again, aiming for Ward’s back. Yes, he and Jemma were on not the best terms at this point, but that didn’t mean that Ward could hurt Jemma. Putting his finger to the trigger, he took a breath, then pulled the trigger. In that spilt second, Ward had ducked out of the way, but it was too late. The bullet soared through the air, striking Jemma in the back. She fell forward, Trip catching her before she fell onto the ground.

Fitz watched in shock, the world slowing down as the bullet twisted through the air, before drilling into her back. The gun rattled on the ground but he didn’t even register dropping it. He just watched in horror as Trip laid her on the ground, started to compress the wound. Bobbi and Skye rushed into the room, Bobbi immediately knelt down to Trip, and opened the Med Pack, filling a syringe with something to clot. Skye looked down at Jemma, fear flashing across her face before looking at Fitz and running over to him, running her fingers down the bloodied gash that marred his face.

“What happened?” Bobbi asked, breaking that silence. Looking around, Fitz realised that Ward was gone. Everything was pointing to him that he did this.

“Ward,” Trip replied, looking up at Fitz and Skye. There was look that flashed across Trip’s face and only Fitz understood it.

Bobbi nodded, and spoke into her comms, requesting that there be a stretcher and that something had happened. That Jemma was injured.

Fitz still stood back, afraid of taking a step towards her. Afraid that he would hurt her. “Fitz,” Skye’s voice snapped him back to reality. “You need to get that cut cleaned.”

He shook his head, his eyes not fully focused on her. Jemma. He had hurt her. He had _shot_ her. He had caused so much damage.

Before he knew it, Bobbi and Trip were loading her up to the stretcher. Jemma, now unconscious, was hanging in the balance between life and death. And it was his fault.

He didn’t feel Skye lead him out of the HYDRA base, and onto the Bus, he didn’t feel her bandage the wound, clean it out. All he could do was look at Jemma, listen to Bobbi and Trip discuss her status, about what would happen when they got back to The Playground. But he could guess what was going to happen; that she was going to have surgery; that this would impact her for years to come; Coulson would never let her back into the field after this. Her lung would be damage. Judging by the machines that she was hooked up to, it seemed that she was drowning on her own blood. She was drowning again. She didn’t deserve this. She deserve so much better. She deserved better than _him._

Bobbi was shouting something, something that wasn’t going into Fitz’s mind. Not directly. Trip rushed over to the stretcher, and was taking a pair of scissors to her shirt. There was a hand on his shoulder as someone raised him from his seat and led him up the stairs, away from whatever was happening downstairs.

“Should we call it?” a voice rang out, he wasn’t sure how much later. He wasn’t even sure where he was. He just knew that someone had lead him away, someone was taking him away from whatever was happening down the stairs.

“Mate,” a voice rang out. Hunter. It must be. He was the only one with that accent, the one with that accent. “What happened?”

Fitz shrugged. “I don’t know. It was all so quick.”

Hunter just nodded and they sat in silence, waiting for news from downstairs. Hunter hadn’t wanted to take him away from Jemma, away from where she might possible be dying but his screams of pure agony had told him that allowing him to stay may not have been the best idea.

Five minutes later, Bobbi was upstairs with them, and her eyes were puffy and red.

“Is she?” Hunter began, standing up.

“She’s alive,” Bobbi began to explain. “Barely. The lung was damaged by the bullet, and the clotting substance… It did… It’s caused further damage. Not enough… to…. But enough that the functionality of that lung will be severely reduced. She needs surgery, first to stem the bleeding and then we’re going to have to wait a number of weeks before we can see what we can do about the damage that has been done by the clotting agent.”

Hunter nodded, looking down at Fitz. He had his legs drawn up, arms wrapped around them and was looking straight ahead; the only colour that was left on his face was the red that was seeping through the bandages and the brilliant blue of his eyes.

Hunter nodded again, and when Bobbi gestured, he followed her from the room. “Will she live?” he asked her, once out of earshot of Fitz. A shrug from Bobbi told him all that he needed to know. “I don’t know. She could code again, it’s a very real risk, but what’s more likely is that she’ll drown.”

Hunter threw a look over his shoulder, looking at Fitz and feeling sorry for him. He had no idea what had happened between the two scientists but whatever it was, it seemed bad.

“He says it was Ward, but I’ve suspicions,” Bobbi whispered, looking Hunter dead in the eyes.

A raised eyebrow from her ex prompted the blonde to go on.

“He’s devastated,” Bobbi started before Hunter interrupted.

“He loves her, or he did. He’s watched the one person that he cares about be shot by the one person that he thought that he could trust.”

Bobbi shook her head, before taking a breath. “I think it was him.”

Hunter had no reply to this, so Bobbi continued again.

“Hunter, I think Fitz shot her.” A raised eyebrow from Hunter showed her that Hunter was still unsure of what she was trying to say. “I think he was aiming for Ward. But Ward was gone…”

It was then that Hunter was finally clued in. Letting out a low, long whistle, he asked Bobbi a question. “What should I do?”

Bobbi had no idea. She knew that Jemma needed to live. She had so much life left to live. But Fitz would never be able to forgive himself if she died. “Just stay with him.”

Hunter nodded, and headed back to the engineer, not knowing what to make of this whole situation.

The rest of the ride back to the Playground was uneventful, and once they got back, Fitz just watched Jemma be rushed off to surgery, guilt gnawing at his insides. He couldn’t believe that this was his fault.

He wandered around the base for hours, not wanting to sit down, he wanted to keep his mind of what could possibly happen. What he could possibly be responsible for. Jemma Simmons’ death.

“Fitz.” May’s voice rang out behind him. He turned and saw May standing there. “She’s alive.”

Relive flooded through Fitz, bringing a smile to his face. “She’ll be awake soon. You should go be with her.”

After he nodded slowly, she walked of, and Fitz let the smile fall of his face. He shouldn’t be smiling, he shouldn’t be allowed to feel anything. He was happy, happy that he hadn’t killer her but she wouldn’t ever forgive him for this.

But he had to. He had to go and talk to her. To show that he was happy for her, that she was alive but he couldn’t go any further. He couldn’t ever tell her what had happened.

When he finally made it to the medical bay, watching her sleep there was something that put him in multiple mind sets. One was that she was absolutely beautiful, lying there, lips slightly apart as she slept. The second was that it reminded him of that Med Pod. Of when they believed that they had no hope. Of when everything changed. Of when he finally revealed his true feelings to her. The third was that she shouldn’t be lying there, threatening to wake to a world of pain. She should be in the lab, working.

Her eyes flutter and she looked up at him, a somewhat confused expression on her face. Morphine. Fitz smiled down at her, one that did not reach his eyes but Jemma did not seem to notice this. “What happened?” she slurred. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth and all she wanted to do was sleep. But Fitz was there. Fitz. She loved Fitz.

“You got hurt,” Fitz said, reaching down and rubbing her hand, a reassurance to both of them but the gesture made him sick to the stomach.

Jemma’s mouth opened into an ‘oh’ as if the injury were a minor inconvenience than a major thing. “Oh,” she said aloud now.

Fitz nodded, and tried to keep up the sad smile. “I’m gonna sleep,” Jemma decided, looking up at him and nodding before her eyes closed again.

The next number of weeks Jemma went through a lot. Fitz hadn’t come to see her since that first time she was awake. He was avoiding her. Everyone else, bar Mack, had come to see her; Trip, May, Skye; Bobbi; Hunter; and even Coulson but not Fitz. Never Fitz. She supposed that she deserved this. After everything that had happened, why should she deserve his love, his care? Him in general. Sighing, she rolled over in the hospital bed and found that Hunter was sitting there, playing on some tablet that he had probably stolen from the lab.

“Alright love?” he asked her, and she shrugged, fiddling with a loose thread on the blanket that was doing little to keep her warm. “Do you wanna talk about it?” He locked the tablet, gently laying it to rest on the ground beside her.

“Where did you get that?” Jemma asked, pointing to the tablet, attempting to avoid the question. “The lab?”

Hunter shook his head. “No, the rec room.”

Jemma nodded her acknowledgement and then looked Hunter in the eyes, tears starting to leak from the soft brown of her own. “Fitz hasn’t been here.”

Hunter nodded and then decided to press the issue, seeing that Jemma wanted to continue. “Why do you think that is?”

“Cause I hurt him,” Jemma said, her voice breaking at this.

Hunter wasn’t expecting this. He knew that they had had their issues, and as the teams unofficial acting therapist, he decided that getting them back together, whether that be platonically or romantically.

“It’s my fault,” she whispered, the colour draining from her face. “It’s all my fault. I gave him… I caused him so much pain, so much hurt.”

“Is that why you left?” Hunter questioned further, as he pieced together everything in his mind.

Jemma nodded. “Every time he progressed, I… I just made him worse knocked him back. He was suffering with me there so I left.” She gave a bitter laugh. “He thinks I left because I hated him, I couldn’t accept his change. But I really left because I loved him.”

By then, the tears were streaming down her face, and Hunter did what any good friend would do, and pulled her into a hug.

Later that evening, Hunter decided to confront Fitz, cornering him in the lab. “You’ve been avoiding her,” was how he began.

Fitz shrugged and tried to push past Hunter but Hunter wasn’t letting him, and Fitz sighed, knowing that he would have to tell the truth but before he could speak, Hunter was practically shouting again. “Why? She’s suffering and she stayed beside you every day! Nine days she was beside you and all those that followed! And you didn’t even have the decency to do the same!”

Fitz gave a cruel laugh, shaking his head. “She was beside me? She left me!”

Hunter shook his head this time, realising just how bad this was, and softened his voice, knowing now that shouting wasn’t the best way to resolve this issue. “That’s not why she left. She left because… she felt she was making you worse. Fitz. Guilt’s eating her alive. She blames herself. She loves you. You know that right? That’s why she left. She loved you.”

“Why should she love me? Why would she love me? Why should she? I hurt her! I _shot_ her!” After saying this, Fitz realised that he had made a mistake, admitting a secret that he had hoped he would take to his grave.

“I know,” Hunter said, resting a hand on the Scott’s shoulder. “Me, Bobbi we both know. We figured it out.”

“Don’t tell her,” Fitz asked, his voice low and soft now.

Hunter nodded, and then Fitz’s calm, almost broken, desperate disposition was gone, and he had stormed out, leaving Hunter alone in the lab.

It was the next day, over breakfast that Hunter had hinted to Trip that he best tell Jemma the whole story. Trip seemed hesitant; he didn’t want to shatter Jemma’s world, one that she was carefully rebuilding but she had been begging for weeks, and Trip felt awful for lying at her.

“It was you,” Jemma’s voice echoed across the lab; soft, broken and… was it disappointed? “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Fitz spun around to face her, standing there in the doorway, her eyes wide and close to tears.

He had no words for this, just horror at how she had found out. Only three people knew; Bobbi, Hunter and Trip. Someone had to tell her.

“Trip told me. I had to find out from him. Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you come?”

“You don’t think I wanted to come! I hurt you Jems! I could have killed you!”

“Fitz,” she whispered, taking a step closer. His body tensed and he looked like he wanted to step back but didn’t.

“And you,” he said, getting of his chest what he had wanted to say for months. “You left!”

“That’s because I loved you Fitz! I love you so much and watching you suffer, watching you in pain because of me!”

Fitz stared at her blankly for a moment, taking in what she had said. “That… what Hunter said was true.”

Jemma shook her head, rolling her eyes, something that was so characteristic of her and stepped closer to him again, invading his personal space. No, he though, invading was the wrong word, completing his personal space. It was something that they did so often that it felt wrong when they didn’t and after so many months of not doing, it felt great to be like that again.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Fitz?” she asked again.

“I didn’t want you to hate me,” he admitted. “I shot you Jems.”

Jemma shrugged, as if it were nothing. “It was Ward’s fault. You wanted to kill him, hurt him but he moved. You can’t beat yourself up over this Fitz.”

“But I almost killed you! You should hate me!”

But Jemma had no words to reply for this. Yes, what Fitz was saying was making sense. Any sane person would be angry, annoyed. But Jemma could never be annoyed, not with him.

Jemma Simmons then proceeded to grab the front of his shirt and pull him closer to her, and they shared their first kiss. Fitz wrapped his arms around her waist, pushing her back until she hit the lab table, and her hands sent papers flying. Pulling apart, Jemma looked up at him, fearing that she overstepped the mark, but he took her cheek gently in his hand, cupping it, and leaned in again, allowing their second kiss to be tender, soft, gentle.

How Jemma had dreamed that their first kiss would be.

Later that night (or early the next morning, they didn’t really know, they had lost track of time), Jemma had her head resting upon his chest, and his fingers were playing with her hair, trailing his fingers down the side of her face.

“When all this is over,” she began, adjusting herself so that she could look up to him, “Run away with me.”

This statement somewhat surprised Fitz. “Runaway where?” he asked her, knowing that she wasn’t joking.

“Perthshire,” she sighed, closing her eyes, and thinking about how she wanted the rest of her life to go. At this point, she didn’t care. At least, not like she did when she was younger.

“That’s in Scotland.”

Jemma gave him a playful smack. “I know. But I used to think, still do, about us. Perthshire. A family.”

“A monkey?” Fitz tried but Jemma laughed.

“A dog,” was her reply.

Sitting up, Fitz looked her straight in the eye and asked her, “Would you really want to run away with me? When all of this is over?”

She nodded. “It makes me want to do it more, after everything we almost lost.”

He nodded this time. “Let’s do it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for not posting last week, was out all day Saturday ( I mean out til like 1:40 am) so was too tired on Sunday and I had this idea and had to post. Many thanks for reading and I hope that you enjoyed. Title is My Fault by Imagine Dragons and Marvel owns all.


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